


Real Himbo Hours Featuring: The Courier

by TheEvilSnuffleupagus



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, as always i am bad at endings, basically another elaborate shitpost, low int courier, maybe? i dunno, nothing bad happens at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24205612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvilSnuffleupagus/pseuds/TheEvilSnuffleupagus
Summary: When a seemingly helpless courier appears at Arcade's tent, he knows he can't just leave him to fend for himself in the wasteland. The next few weeks end up quite interesting, to say the least.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Real Himbo Hours Featuring: The Courier

**Author's Note:**

> Two things that prompted me to write this: 1. Finding out that Arcade will become your companion if you have a low enough intelligence stat, and 2. I am so so bad at video games and sometimes I like to imagine how exasperated my companions would be if they could react to any of the dumb shit I do in-game

“This place is really complicated and stuff. You’re smart. Can you help me… do things?” That was how the stranger, now known to Arcade as the Courier, had gotten him to come along on his mission. Now, they walked along the streets of Freeside, the newly acquainted stranger stopping to wander through every empty building and dead end that he could see. 

“What are we here for, again?” Arcade asked, as the other man stopped to rummage through a trash can. The passerby ignored them; it appeared they were already accustomed to seeing the eccentric cowboy behave like some sort of human raccoon in broad daylight. 

The Courier emerged, a few grimy bottlecaps clutched in his hand. “We’re looking for a sex robot,” he explained, slipping the caps into his pocket. “You know how to do science things, right? Do you know how to build a sex robot?”

“I don’t know, I have no desire to know, and didn’t you say something earlier about trying to find someone in New Vegas?” 

“That can wait,” the Courier responded. He was now walking around in circles, staring at the device on his arm. “God, I’m so bad with directions!” he groaned. Arcade sighed. From seeing the bullet shaped scar on the side of his head, he knew that the man had most likely sustained some kind of brain damage, but the situation was more dire than he had expected. 

***

“We should be able to reach the gate now, right?” 

“Oh, totally. Just follow my lead.” The two of them were approaching Nellis, the sex robot mission thankfully left abandoned. The Courier had obtained a note detailing a safe path through, and it was a relief to know that they wouldn’t be rushing headlong into a death trap. “Which way is northwest again?” 

“Don’t you have a compass on that device of yours?” Arcade asked, gesturing to the Pip-Boy that the Courier always kept strapped to his arm. He simply shrugged, continuing forward despite the fact that clearly, he had no idea what he was really doing. “Here, let me take a look.”

“Nah, I’m sure it will be fine,” the Courier replied, breaking into a sprint towards the broken-down, burnt buildings that peppered the landscape before them. An explosive of some sort whizzed past him, blasting a wall into pieces. “I think this is northwest!” he shouted, as Arcade chased after him in a futile attempt at protection. Another explosion threw them off their feet, and for a moment, they were hidden away by a thick chunk of concrete, some remainder from what was maybe once a house. The ground continued to rumble and the air continued to blaze, but they were left unscathed. “See, I told you it would be fine!” the Courier chirped, before another explosive flew directly towards them.

***

“We barely survived that encounter,” Arcade grumbled, the duo now far away from Boomer territory. “Do you have any medical supplies on you?” The Courier rooted through his bag, shuffling through its seemingly endless contents before finally pulling out what he was looking for. 

“I have these!” he announced, presenting an armful of sarsaparilla bottles.

“How have you even survived this long?” the researcher remarked.

“Because I also have these!” the Courier said, pulling out a quantity of drugs that could probably stop an elephant in its tracks. Seeing the look on Arcade’s face, the Courier spoke up once more. “Don’t worry, I only use the actual medical stuff! I’m saving all the nasty drug stuff for a really, really strong enemy, so I can take all of it at once and become unstoppable!” He shoved the narcotics back into his impossibly large bag, uncapping a sarsaparilla instead. 

“I’m fairly certain that’s not how that works.” 

“How do you know? Are you some kind of doctor or something?”

At this point, Arcade had completely run out of witty remarks. 

***

“Hey, can I ask you something?” The two of them were standing in the planetarium of REPCONN headquarters, enjoying the respite from the danger that seemed to follow them everywhere they went. 

Arcade figured this would happen eventually. The Courier had been asking a lot of questions about his past, and his non-answers were surely suspicious even to someone lacking a couple hundred brain cells. He supposed he was ready to tell him the truth; after everything, he felt that the gunslinger was somebody he could trust. “What is it?” he replied. 

“Are sharks a mammal?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

***

“Careful. We don’t know what’s down here.” The pair were now in a plant-filled vault, knee deep in overgrown flora. To Arcade’s relief, his acquaintance actually stopped, rather than rushing down the dimly lit stairwell before them like he assumed he would. Unfortunately, it appeared that he had stopped for the sole purpose of turning on his radio, because within moments, music began to stream out of the Pip-Boy on his arm. “Are you trying to alert everything to our location? Because that’s how you alert everything to our location.”

“C’mon, aren’t you in the mood for some tunes?” the Courier asked, stepping into the stairwell. For some reason, he didn’t go any further.

“This is the worst possible time for some tunes.” Not only would the music likely get them discovered by some curious vault-dwelling creature, it was also hindering his own ability to hear whether or not they were being approached. “Why on earth would you pick now of all times to turn that on?” 

“Because why not?” A loud clatter resounded from somewhere below them, and the Courier rushed to turn up the volume. Interesting.

“Is it because you’re scared?” The reaction was immediate.

“What---that’s ridiculous, I have never been scared in my life, I---I have like fifty guns and a flamethrower, could a guy with a flamethrower be scared?” 

“Everyone gets scared. It’s a normal human response.”

“Yeah, well, I’m cooler and sexier than the normal human, so guess what, I can’t feel fear! You’re just, uh, deflecting, to hide that you’re the one who’s scared of the radiated fuckwasps!” The Courier looked smug, as if an actual point had been made. Arcade sighed, something he had been doing a lot during the past few days.

“Alright, since I’m so afraid, how about you stay behind me so that nothing will sneak up on us?” It hardly made sense, but it was worth a shot.

“Sounds like a plan!” the Courier responded, happy to let the researcher take the lead. 

“And for godssake, turn that thing off.”

***

It had been an eventful few weeks travelling with the Courier. By now, Arcade had grown accustomed to the way that the other man dug through trash cans, got lost in the smallest of buildings, and took naps on bloodstained mattresses found in abandoned vaults. After all, those habits were far more harmless than the main gripe he had regarding his behavior: despite everything, the reckless little man would not stop rushing directly into the path of danger. “What did you even do?” he now hollered, seeing the Courier sprint out of Caesar’s tent with several legionnaires at his heels. His question was soon answered as another man fled from the tent, a familiar man wearing a checkered suit now spotted with blood and dirt. “You turned the entire legion against us to rescue a guy who tried to kill you? Not just once, but twice?”

“I couldn’t just leave him to die!” the Courier retorted, firing into the mob that chased after him. He grabbed Arcade by the arm and they ran, the furious shouts of Caesar’s soldiers close behind them. Somehow, he didn't find himself angry at the other man’s reckless actions. What the Courier lacked in brains, he supposed he made up for in heart. Even if it got them into trouble, more often than not. Even if they now had some pompous Vegas weirdo with two attempted murders under his belt following them around. Somehow, things would probably end up okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so glad the Fallout radio doesn't actually attract enemies to your location because if I had to wander the vaults hearing only spooky ambient sounds and insect noises I'd probably cry


End file.
